Sundown Syndrome
by T'eyla
Summary: After surgery, Malcolm's marbles are rolling away... and the Suliban are invading Enterprise! mild slash and complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Sundown Syndrome

**Author**: T'eyla

**Rating**: PG-13 for... embarrassing? situations ;)

**Genre**: Humor

**Disclaimer**: Nah, still don't own them. Working on it though... --evil chuckle while she adds finishing touches to her Send-Paramount-Straight-To-Hell-Bomb--

**Betas**: SitaZ and The Libran Iniquity (can't thank you enough!)

**AN**: Not gonna comment on it. Just read it. If you're a guy, watch out. This might give you nightmares -eg-. Oh right: This is **TUCKER/REED**! As in slash or male/male pairing. Do not read if you don't like that. Thanks.

Well, now, on with the story, and as we all know, feedback is better that chocolate!

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Part One

"Phlox! Anyone! Quick!"

When Dr. Phlox heard Trip Tucker's voice, calling for help and carrying a panicky undertone, he immediately abandoned the inventory of his opiate storage closet and stepped into sickbay's main room, prepared for anything from a plasma burn to a sudden unexpected heart attack. His eyes fell on Enterprise's Chief Engineer, who was looking around in apparent search for medical staff, and on Malcolm Reed. The Lieutenant was half standing next to, half leaning against Tucker, who had an arm around his partner. Reed's face was pallid, and Phlox could see a thin film of sweat on his forehead. With a few strides, he came up next to the two officers and together with Trip helped Malcolm over to the scanning unit's examination table.

"What happened?" he asked while Reed was lying down on the table, a pain-filled expression on his face.

"Ah don' know," Tucker answered, the worry evident in his voice. "We're in mah quarters, havin' dinner, and at some point, Mal, he disappears into th' head an' dinn't come out fo' half 'n eternity, an' when Ah called him he dinn't answer, an' so Ah go in there an' he's there pukin' his guts out an' holdin' his stomach an' tellin' me he's in pain, an' so I brought'm here."

Phlox had noticed before that when the Commander was worried or upset, his accent thickened, but it had never been as bad as it was right now. He almost had difficulties making out what exactly Tucker was telling him. He got the gist of it, though, and turned to Reed, who was pressing his hands on his stomach, his eyes closed. The Lieutenant's face had an unhealthy yellowish hue to it, and there was sweat gathering on his brow and upper lip.

Phlox gently pulled Reed's hands away, starting to apply careful pressure to the spot where the Lieutenant had had his hands. Reed moaned, and Phlox pulled his hands back.

"I assume this is the location of the pain?" he asked, and Reed nodded. Taking a med scanner from the table beside him, Phlox ran it over his patient and studied the readings. What he saw didn't exactly surprise him, it was only a confirmation of what he'd thought of when Tucker had told his story.

"What's th' matter with him, doc?" he heard Tucker's worried voice beside him. He pursed his lips.

"Well, according to these scans, it seems that Mr. Reed is suffering from an acute typhlitis."

"A what?" Tucker asked. The Lieutenant had opened his eyes and looked up at Phlox. The doctor put his scanner aside.

"An inflammation of the _Appendix Vermiformis_. Appendicitis."

There was a short moment of silence as the two men gathered the meaning of what Phlox had said. Then Tucker uttered a small "Oh." and Malcolm closed his eyes again, a mixture of pain, relief and resignation on his face. Phlox put his med scanner aside.

"I assume that you have been experiencing the stomach ache for some time now, Lieutenant Reed?" he asked as he went over to his equipment table. As he turned back, he saw that the Lieutenant had propped himself on his left elbow, one hand still on his stomach. He nodded. "Yes, it must have been two days, I think," he said, his voice sounding a bit hoarse. "It started yesterday, and today it got a lot worse when I had something to eat."

A frown crossed Tucker's face. "Why didn't you tell me, Mal?" he asked. "I would've brought ya here earlier."

Reed shook his head. "It really wasn't that much of a bother, it only twinged a little. It's been only in the last few hours that it's got any worse."

"The last few _hours_?" Tucker sounded rather agitated now. "If it started ta get worse _hours_ ago, why did ya even agree ta have dinner wi' me? And why did ya wait till you started throwin' up as if-"

"Now now, Commander," Phlox interrupted him. The last thing his patient needed right now was a well-meaning partner who got him all upset and worked up. "Appendicitis is very well treatable, and in Lieutenant Reed's case, a simple laparoscopic operation should set things straight again. No need to worry."

"What kind of operation is this, doctor?" Reed asked, and as Phlox heard the suspicious undertone in his voice, his heart sank. He knew that tone, he always heard it when he suggested any kind of treatment to the Lieutenant that Reed wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with. Since the Lieutenant hated to be treated medically, this was the case with almost every treatment there was.

"It's called a laparoscopic treatment or an abdominoscopy. In the procedure, I will operate with the help of a small camera that I will insert into your abdominal wall making three very small cuts. This technique avoids the otherwise necessary cut through the abdominal wall, and will reduce the post-operative pain a great deal. It is used in cases of acute appendicitis as a routine treatment." Phlox had tried to make it sound like something that could be tolerated considering that it would help make the pain go away. Judging from Reed's face, he hadn't succeeded.

"You are planning to stick a bloody camera into my stomach?" he asked, and Phlox sighed inwardly.

"No, not at all, Lieutenant. I am planning to insert a very small piece of medical equipment into a small, not very deep cut in your abdominal wall to be able to see what it is I am operating on. You won't notice any of it, I'll put you under a general anesthesia."

Reed shook his head, lying back down on the examination table. "No, doc, you're not going to stick anything into my stomach. Isn't there another way of treating this?"

Tucker, who had watched the exchange silently, stepped forward and put a hand on Malcolm's arm. "Mal, it doesn't sound like a very dangerous operation."

"It isn't," Phlox added helpfully, hoping that maybe with the Commander's help, he'd be able to calm down the Lieutenant enough so he could administer the anesthetic. "As I said, it's a routine treatment. However, an untreated appendicitis can become very dangerous. If the inflammation is allowed to spread, there might be a perforation of the bowel, which can lead to peritonitis, a life-threatening condition. Besides, there's also the danger of an abscess forming, which I would have to operate on as well. In that case, however, a laparoscopic procedure is not possible, which means I would have to cut through the abdominal wall, a much more complicated operation than the simple removal of an inflamed _Appendix Vermiformis. _The wisest thing to do, Lieutenant, is to let me operate right now before any more damage occurs."

Reed gave him a very doubtful look, then turned to his partner. Phlox watched a short silent exchange between the two of them, then the Lieutenant looked back at him. "Alright, doctor," he said, and Phlox smiled, feeling relieved that he hadn't had to take drastic measures to convince the Lieutenant that agreeing to the operation was the sensible thing to do.

"Very good," he said. "Mr. Tucker, I must ask you to leave, then. I will operate immediately, no use in waiting any longer. Mr. Reed, please take off your clothing, I will give you something to wear during surgery. Mr. Tucker, would you do me the favor of informing the Captain? Thank you. Well, let's get going!" Phlox gave Reed and Tucker a reassuring smile and walked over to a cupboard to get the equipment he would need. As he opened the storage compartment, he heard Reed's voice.

"I wish I wouldn't have to do this. I hate agreeing to letting anyone cut me open."

"You'll be okay, darlin'" Tucker answered. "Phlox knows what he's doin'. It'll be alright, trust me."

_Of course it will be_, Phlox thought, almost glad that Reed would be under general anesthesia in a few minutes. He simply couldn't understand the Lieutenant's distrust for medical procedures - after all a person underwent medical treatment to feel better afterwards. The Lieutenant always made it seem as if doctors were only out to hurt and torment their patients, which if not offended at least annoyed Phlox a little. It made the Lieutenant a very complicated patient.

He turned back, clucking disapprovingly as he saw that Tucker was still standing next to the scanning unit. "Now, out, Commander," he said, arranging his equipment on an OR tray. "Don't worry, the Lieutenant is in good hands."

As he looked up, he saw Tucker eyeing the laser scalpel with a distrusting expression on his face. He was about to say something else when the Commander nodded once. "Alright, doc, I'm off." He squeezed his partner's hand. "You'll be fine, Mal. Don't worry."

Reed nodded, and Tucker crossed the room, pushing the panel next to the sickbay doors, leaving Phlox alone with his patient. Smiling and nodding contentedly, Phlox gathered his thoughts and applied himself to the task at hand.

* * *

TBC... 

Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**AN**: Thanks to Exploded Pen (never meant for you to read what I was saying! ;) – I've used that laziness-excuse often enough myself… :P), Gammaent and Triptacular for reviewing! Feel free to do it again any time ;).

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Part Two

It was quite late on Enterprise, and Trip Tucker was restlessly turning from one side to the other in his bed, asleep and dreaming of giant spiders invading the ship. The spiders didn't really look like spiders, more like bats, but that didn't exactly matter to Trip as he frantically tried to find a way to stop the invasion.

After leaving Malcolm with Phlox in sickbay, Trip had gone to inform the Captain that his Armory Officer wouldn't be on duty for the next couple of days. Jon had been surprised, of course, and a little worried, but stated that it shouldn't be a problem to reschedule the duty roster, since at the moment there wasn't that much work to do in the Armory anyway. The cleaning up and the phase pistol inventory that had been planned would have to wait. Since Jon had seemed busy and not in the mood for a chat, Trip had returned to his quarters and had cleaned up a bit, trying to kill the time until Malcolm came out of surgery. When his quarters looked cleaner than they had since Malcolm had first come here to spend the night, Trip sat down at his terminal and skimmed through his paperwork, reading a few reports and writing one or two of his own. Finally, at 0030, three hours after he had brought Malcolm down to sickbay, the comm beeped, and Phlox told Trip that the operation was over, that everything had gone according to plan, and that Malcolm was still sleeping off the anesthesia. When Trip had asked if he could stop by, Phlox had reassured him that Malcolm was alright and had suggested that he get some sleep and stop by first thing tomorrow, when Malcolm would probably be awake. After a moment's hesitation, Trip had agreed, and thus he was now asleep in bed and despairing as the bat-spiders took over one deck after the other. In a last attempt to save the ship, he was currently trying to override the command codes so he could get access to the environment controls - someone, he couldn't remember who, had told him that the spiders wouldn't survive a temperature under minus five degrees - when suddenly a persistent beeping broke through his concentration.

_What the hell?_ he thought. _Fire alarm? I don't need that now!_

He was just about to call up a control program that would show him where the fire had broken out, when the beeping got louder, and a voice mingled with the sound.

"...to Commander Tucker. Phlox to Commander Tucker."

Trip opened his eyes, momentarily disoriented. Hadn't he been in engineering just a moment ago, trying to hack into those damn environment controls? He rolled onto his back, and slowly reality came into focus again. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, cursing his vivid dream and thinking that maybe watching "Angry Red Planet" with Malcolm hadn't been such a grand idea after all. Even though he would never admit it to Malcolm, that movie was certainly one of the crappier scifi-horrors from the nineteen-sixties. All that hysteria about spider-bat-monsters...

"Phlox to Commander Tucker!" came a loud voice next to his left ear, startling him. He groped for the comm button. "Tucker here," he said.

"Ah, Commander. Finally." Phlox sounded relieved. "I am sorry to wake you, but I have to ask you to come down here and help me calm down Mr. Reed."

At that, Trip became wide awake in a second. "Why, what's the matter with him?"

"I'll explain when you're here. Please come here as quickly as you can. Phlox out."

The comm uttered a clicking sound as the connection was cut. Trip only sat there, stunned for a moment. Then he scrambled out of bed and pulled on his uniform, already opening the door while he was hopping on one foot, slipping on his second boot. Less than three minutes later he stepped into sickbay, and a scene of complete chaos unfolded before him.

Bright lights were blazing despite the nightly hour. Everything looked as always, except the area where the bio beds stood. Around the one nearest to the scanning unit lay several pieces of medical equipment and a pillow and blanket on the floor, looking as if someone had thrown them there. Next to the bio bed stood Phlox, a deep frown on his face. On the bio bed, there was Malcolm, and he seemed to be in a unique state of distress, struggling against Phlox's hands that were gripping his shoulders and keeping him from getting up.

"Doctor, I need to go to the armory!" he said, his tone carrying a desperate undertone. "This is an emergency situation!"

"No, Lieutenant," Phlox said, eternal patience in his voice. "Everything is alright. There is no one on the ship who shouldn't be there. You need to rest."

"Doctor, this is ridiculous!" Malcolm exclaimed, and with a quick movement squirmed out of Phlox's grip and tried to escape by sliding over the edge of the bio bed. In a few strides, Trip came up next to the bed and caught his partner by the shoulders.

"Whoa there, Mal," he said. "Ya need to stay in bed."

"Trip," Malcolm said, relief in his tone. "How's our status? Were you able to stop the Suliban?"

Thrown off track for a second, Trip shot Phlox a questioning look, and saw the doctor nodding frantically behind Malcolm's back. "Er... yeah," he said, looking back at Malcolm who was watching him tensely. "We... yeah, we did. No Suliban on Enterprise, Mal."

"What about those spider-creatures? Did you catch all of them?"

"What?" Trip shook his head. "Mal, what's the matter with you?"

"The spider-creatures! Did you get them all?" Malcolm looked at him with frustration written all over his face. "Did you? No, you didn't, of course you didn't... Doctor!" He turned back to Phlox. "You have to let me go to the Armory! I'm the bloody Security Officer, for God's sake, I can't be in sickbay when the Suliban are invading Enterprise!" Again he tried to slip past Phlox, and again the doctor caught him by the shoulders, pushing him back down on the bed.

"Everything's alright, Lieutenant," he said. "There are no Suliban on Enterprise."

He gave Malcolm a stern look, and Trip seized the short moment of silence to ask in a low voice, "Doc? What's the matter with him?"

Phlox looked up. "It's called Sundown Syndrome. From time to time it occurs after - oh no, stop right there!" He grabbed Malcolm by the arm and pushed him back onto the bed. "Stay in bed, Lieutenant!"

"Doctor, let me go!" Malcolm demanded, and tried to struggle against Phlox's grip. Trip reached out and put a hand on Malcolm's shoulder.

"It's okay, honey," he said. "Everything's alright. I told ya, we were able to stop the Suliban. There's no danger to Enterprise." Quietly, he added, "Please continue, doc."

"It can occur after general anesthesia. It's only temporary and does no harm to the patient - except that he might harm himself by trying to get up when he's not yet allowed to."

Trip looked down at his partner who had an almost panicky look on his face and was trying to get free of Phlox who still had Reed's shoulder's in a firm grip. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair out of Malcolm's forehead.

"It's okay, Mal. Everything's fine. Don't worry 'bout Enterprise."

His words, however, did not have the desired effect. Instead of calming down, Malcolm's face turned pale and his eyes widened. "You're one of them, aren't you?" he asked, and Trip frowned.

"One of who?"

"You too!" Malcolm exclaimed, looking over at Phlox. "You belong to them!" His gaze flew back and forth between Trip and Phlox, and Trip saw panic in Malcolm's grey eyes. Realizing what Malcolm was thinking, he winced inwardly.

"It's okay, Mal," he said, trying to sound convincing. "I'm no Suliban, and Phlox isn't, either. I'm as real as you can get. See?" And he pinched himself in the back of his hand, so Malcolm would see - even though a second later he realized that the gesture proved essentially nothing. Understandably, his partner paid the small but nonetheless quite painful gesture no attention, but broke away from Phlox's grip on his shoulders and in turn grabbed Trip's shoulders and shook him rather rudely.

"What have you done to Trip?" he yelled. "Tell me!"

Trip, who'd been taken by surprise by Malcolm's sudden movement, tried to retreat but stopped as he saw Malcolm almost lose his balance and fall off the bio bed.

"Now get a grip, Mal," he said, taking his partner by the wrists and trying to pry Reed's fingers loose from his shoulders. "I'm no Suliban, what gives you the idea?"

But Malcolm didn't seem to listen, he simply shook Trip so the engineer felt his teeth rattle inside his head. "What did you do to Trip, you bastard?"

Just as Trip decided that first of all, this was probably one of the strangest situations he'd ever been in and second, that Mal's fingers digging into his shoulders was really starting to hurt, Reed's grip was loosened and Malcolm was pulled back down on the bio bed.

"I am very sorry, Lieutenant," he heard Phlox say, "but I do not see any other option." With these words, the doctor quickly closed a padded cuff around Malcolm's right arm and fastened it to the bio bed. Bending over his patient, he did the same thing with the left arm. Malcolm didn't seem to like the confinement of his freedom and began to struggle, and Trip looked up at Phlox, glad that the doctor had freed him from Malcolm's death-grip, but on the other hand a little shocked by Phlox's actions.

"Doc, do you really think that's necessary?" he asked. "He'll calm down in a minute, I'm sure."

Phlox gave him a long look while he straightened his shirt. "I'm afraid not, Commander," he said. "This has been going on for over an hour now. I called you only when I had only two options left: either try and get someone who might be able to calm him down, or posey him."

"Posey him?" Trip asked.

"Well, do what I did now."

"Ah. And... you can't, ya know, give him somethin' to calm down?"

Phlox shook his head. "I do not want to sedate him so shortly after the anesthetic. It might have unwanted effects on his metabolism." Trip looked at the doctor rather unhappily, and Phlox continued, "You see, he's decided that we are Suliban. We can do whatever we want, he won't believe a word we say. And he absolutely must not get up at the moment. He's been moving around too much as it is."

Trip looked down at his partner, who had watched their exchange with a wary expression. As Malcolm noticed Trip looking at him, he gave him a spiteful look.

"You're not fooling me, you know," he said. Trip sighed.

"How temporary is this, doc?"

"As I said, it's Sundown Syndrome. It should be over in the morning."

"And you want to leave him tied up till then?" Trip asked, quite unhappy at the prospect. The doctor raised his eyebrows.

"Essentially yes. If he comes around before then, I will remove the restraints, of course. But I have to be absolutely sure that he's himself again. I can't have him sneaking out of sickbay in his current condition."

Trip nodded. Of course, he didn't like the sight of Malcolm tied to the bio bed and furtively pulling on the restraints, but on the other hand, he realized that Phlox knew what he was doing. You didn't have to be a doctor to see that right now, Malcolm getting up and chasing non-existent Suliban wouldn't be exactly conducive to his recovery. They would simply have to wait until this sundown-whatever-syndrome went away again. "Will he remember any of this?" he asked Phlox, and the doctor considered for a moment.

"Probably not. Most patients don't. And if, only traces of it."

Trip nodded. "I'll stay with him," he said, pulling up a chair.

"If you wish," Phlox said. "I'll be next door, continuing my opiate inventory. It seems like my Pyrithian bat stole some of the piritramide again. I have no idea how she gets into the locker, but it seems like she likes the color of the phials enough to get inventive. The phials are a fluorescing shade of pink, you know, and I have observed that Pyrithian bats seem to react to that color. I once found a whole of five phials in her cage, hidden underneath a leaf of salad I fed her the day before. It's most fascinating."

"Erm... it sure is," Trip said, deciding not to comment on this any further. He returned his attention to his partner instead, who was watching them with a suspicious expression. "Hey, Mal," he said. "Everything's just fine."

"Don't think you can fool me, Suliban" Malcolm spat, and Trip sighed, getting comfortable on the chair and preparing for a long night in sickbay.

* * *

TBC... 

Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**AN**: Thanks to Joy, Exploded Pen and Triptacular for reviewing :) (and here's to you, Hannah... a tribute to The Bugger Files, what is it, Chapter 6? - 'cause you always leave a review :) )

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Part Three

"Trip?"

Trip heard his name uttered by a soft, questioning voice, the sound penetrating the sleepy haze around his brain. He blinked his eyes open and it took him a moment to recover his bearings. Only when he raised his head and a cramp struck, sending a stab of pain down his back and making him wince, he realized that he had fallen asleep on a chair in sickbay. Carefully, Trip sat up and looked around, trying to figure out where the sound had come from. Eventually, his eyes fell on Malcolm, who was lying on the bio bed in front of him, his eyes open and his hands still in restraints. Trip smiled tentatively, slowly getting up.

"Malcolm?" he asked. "How're ya feelin'?"

Malcolm didn't respond immediately, only blinked and looked at him with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Trip? What happened?" And he moved his hands, pulling at the restraints that tied them to the bio bed.

At Malcolm's obvious bewilderment, Trip felt a surge of sympathy and affection for his partner. His smile widened, and he took Malcolm's hand in his own.

"Hey, darlin', back again, huh? I admit, you had me scared there for a moment."

Malcolm slightly shook his head. "Why? What happened? I... I don't seem to remember."

"Oh, well..." Trip didn't know how to put it so it would seem as harmless as it obviously had been. "Ya kinda freaked out there for a moment. Nothin' serious. Phlox called it the "Sundown Syndrome" an' it seems ta be quite common. You're okay, don't worry."

Malcolm looked at him a little doubtfully, then moved his hands again. "Could you take these off, please?"

Trip hesitated for a moment, then discarded his anyway quite feeble doubts. Malcolm seemed like himself again, and even if there was another episode coming, it would be easy enough to reinstall the cuffs. "Sure, Mal." He bent down and loosened the left restraint. Just when he was about to walk around the bed and do the same with the other one, Malcolm reached over and pulled off the right cuff as well.

"Thanks," he said, and Trip smiled again.

"No problem." He stood next to the bed, putting a hand on Malcolm's arm. "So, Mal, now tell me, how're ya-"

"GOTCHA, STINKING SULIBAN!"

Trip heard the shout, and the next second felt horrible, excruciating pain explode in his crotch. He took in a sharp breath and at the same time tried to scream. A gargled sound came from his mouth as the air got tangled in his throat. The next moment, his airways cleared and a bellow of pain emerged from his mouth.

"OOOOW!"

He groped for whatever it was that held his balls in a death-grip - for that was what was happening, his balls were being squeezed like lemons - and the sensation changed, the pressure mercifully lifting. Covering his wounded privates with his hands, Trip felt his knees give way and tears come to his eyes, blurring his surroundings. He heard his own moans like far-away sounds as he fell to his knees and doubled up, feeling as if his bowels were being ripped apart from bottom to top.

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When Phlox, who was still occupied in the adjacent room, heard a thump and screams from sickbay's main room, he immediately dropped the box with piritramide phials that he'd been about to hide in the very back of his opiates locker. Paying the shattering sound as the phials smashed on the floor no attention whatsoever, the doctor hurried next door and stopped in his tracks at the scene unfolding before him.

There was Commander Tucker, lying next to a bio bed in a fetal position, moaning and obviously in a great deal of pain. There was the chaos that Lieutenant Reed had caused before by scattering medical equipment all over the floor. And there was _no_ Lieutenant Reed in the bio bed, as he should have been. Phlox only saw the discarded restraints, and just that moment he heard the swish of the sickbay doors.

The Denobulan word that flashed through his mind would have made even his third wife, a tough case when it came to embarrassing situations, turn pale. He hesitated for the blink of a second, then hurried over to where the Commander was writhing on the floor, deciding that going after Lieutenant Reed could wait until he'd made sure that the Commander was more or less alright. Getting down to his knees next to Tucker, he grabbed a med scanner that was lying nearby on the floor, and took the Commander by the shoulder.

"Mr. Tucker, are you hurt? What happened?"

The Commander raised his head, and at the pain-filled expression in his face, Phlox experienced a sinking feeling in his stomach. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Tucker finally managed to speak.

"He squeezed mah goddamn balls!"

For a moment, Phlox was thrown off track. Then, however, he felt a certain relief. Getting one's balls squeezed was painful, but it had not yet killed a man.

"Oh." Phlox was silent for a moment. "Do you think you can get up?" he asked then, and Trip nodded, gritting his teeth.

"Guess so."

Phlox supported Tucker as he awkwardly got to his feet and sat down on the bio bed. The Commander still had his hands protectively cupped over his crotch, and judging from his expression, the pain had not eased. Quickly considering what he had to do, Phlox walked over to a small refrigerator.

"Here," he said, taking out an ice pack and handing it to the Commander. "Take off your pants and put this on the scrotum. I will go after Mr. Reed."

Tucker looked at him with disbelief. "Ya want me ta put ice on mah balls?"

Phlox had to suppress an exasperated sigh. "Yes Commander, I do, unless you want your testicles to swell up to the size of two basketballs. I need to find Mr. Reed now. When that's taken care of, I will tend to your injury."

"Ah, yeah, sure, doc," Tucker said, accepting the ice pack without another word. "Um, maybe it's not such a good idea ta go after Mal. On your own, I mean."

Phlox frowned. "Why not?"

"Ah... ya know, he believes that there're Suliban on the ship, right, and that they're disguised as crewmembers." Phlox nodded, and Tucker continued, "Well, ya see, he's gonna try and arm himself, I'd say."

Phlox realized that Tucker was probably right. "I'll alert Security, then," he said, moving over to the comm. "If he comes to the Armory, they can bring him right back here." He was already about to hit the comm button, when Tucker spoke up again.

"Ah, I don't think it'll be that easy," he said, and Phlox frowned again.

"And why not, Commander?"

"I don't think he'll go to the Armory, you know. It's where we'd expect him ta go. I think he'll go somewhere more, um, private."

"But if he wants to arm himself..."

"Oh," Tucker said and shook his head, "Mal has ways to get his hands on weapons without needin' ta go to the Armory. The phase pistol he's been tamperin' with that's in his quarters... or the old M-16 he keeps in his closet, don't ask me why... or even the collection of daggers he's inherited from his dad!"

Phlox decided not to consider the state of mind a sentient being had to be in to surround itself with a collection of weapons and sidearms. "So you think he went to his quarters?" he asked instead. "To barricade himself inside, so to speak?"

The Commander bit his lip, nodding slowly. "He might very well've gone there."

This was a very unfortunate turn of events. If Reed got the chance to lock himself into his quarters, anything might happen. Phlox doubted that they would be able to break into the cabin by force. Mr. Reed could be a pain in the neck from time to time, but he wasn't Enterprise's Security Chief for nothing. Quickly, Phlox reached for the comm.

"Phlox to Captain Archer!"

There were a few moments of silence, then the Captain's sleepy voice came from the speaker. "Yes, what's up?"

"I assume you are in your quarters?"

A pause. "Sure, of course. Why?"

"I need you to get up immediately and stop Lieutenant Reed from entering his quarters. Watch out, he might be armed. He believes that we are all Suliban invading Enterprise. He is on his way to B-Deck right now."

"What?" Archer exclaimed, and Phlox was just about to explain again, thinking that they didn't have the time for such things, when Archer's voice came again. "Don't tell me. I'll be on my way."

Phlox closed his eyes in relief. "Very good, and Captain?"

"What else?"

"Try not to handle him too roughly. He's just been through surgery."

"... right. Archer out."

Phlox turned away from the comm and met Tucker's eyes that expressed worry for his partner. "Will he be alright, doc?" Tucker asked.

Phlox thought that in this situation, Mr. Reed's well-being was not in his hands anymore, but out of habit nodded anyway. "Yes, Commander. I'll do my best that he will be, in fact, alright."

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It had been almost suspiciously easy. Malcolm threw a tense look over his shoulder, expecting sickbay's double doors to slide open any moment. He couldn't imagine that they'd be fooled so easily. But on the other hand, maybe they really hadn't expected it. He snorted derisively. As if he hadn't seen through that lukewarm masquerade right away. If Silik thought that Enterprise's Armory Officer would still fall for his tricks, he certainly had another think coming. They'd even loosened the restraints for him. _Thank God that Suliban adapt their anatomy as well when they become a different species_, he thought.

But _someone_ on Enterprise had obviously fallen for the Suliban's tricks, or Silik and his men wouldn't have been in sickbay. Malcolm felt a surge of worry for Trip well up inside him. He didn't like to admit it, but Trip was a sucker for perfidious tricks like that, just like Archer. It was that goddamn American mentality to go ahead and trust any- and everyone if they only looked as if they could be trusted, without checking on the backgrounds. Stopping at the next computer terminal and running an internal scan for Trip was a very tempting thought, but Malcolm knew he didn't have the time. It would be of no use to anyone if he got himself caught again. He had to get to his quarters and hope that the Suliban had overlooked the small storage compartment hidden in the back of the closet. An M-16 wasn't what Malcolm wished for at the moment, but it was better than nothing. Maybe the indoor-fireworks that Maddy had given him for last Christmas were still there as well. He assumed that they would make for a good distraction, if nothing else.

As he reached the end of the corridor, he hit the panel to call the turbolift, and leaned against the wall for a moment. Why in the name of all gods did he have to come down with appendicitis when the ship was about to be taken over by Suliban? There certainly wasn't a more inappropriate time for things like that. There was a persistent, stinging pain just below his stomach, and he had the quite familiar feeling of slight dizziness that he'd begun to associate with Phlox's pain treatment. But he couldn't pay attention to physical indispositions at the moment. There were far more important things to do.

The turbolift doors swished open, and he stepped inside, quickly hitting the button for B-Deck. _They didn't even think of a guard inside the lift_, he thought. _What the bloody hell are they up to anyway?_

The lift began to slide upwards towards B-Deck. Nervously tapping his foot, Malcolm counted the fifteen seconds he knew it would take the lift to reach its destination. If the Suliban had done the same thing as last time and had locked everyone in their quarters, it shouldn't be too hard to seize control of Enterprise again. Again Malcolm cursed the unlucky circumstances that had landed him in sickbay at such an inopportune time.

Finally, the lift came to a halt, and the doors slid open. Malcolm was just about to step outside when he suddenly found himself facing two persons - Captain Archer and T'Pol. Or at least two people that looked like them.

_Oh, bloody hell_, he thought and took a step backwards in the hope that the lift doors would shut themselves again. But Archer and T'Pol were too fast, getting onto the lift as well before the doors closed.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?" the Suliban that looked like Archer asked. "You should be in sickbay."

"Don't touch me," Malcolm hissed. The situation was quite hopeless. He didn't think that he could take on two Suliban in his current condition. Well, he had to try, anyway, since at the moment he couldn't see another option. He certainly wouldn't come peacefully.

Pushing himself off the wall of the cabin, he flung himself against the Archer-Suliban, counting on the element of surprise. He didn't come very far, though. In mid-movement he saw the other Suliban take a step forward and reach out. He sensed a sudden pressure at the joint of his neck and right shoulder, and the last thing he felt was two arms catching his fall before blackness overtook his mind.

* * *

TBC... 

Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**AN**: Thanks to Triptacular (Phlox probably could have, but maybe he was kind of distracted at the moment... or maybe the author was kinda distracted, too ;) ), Gammaent and Exploded Pen for reviewing!

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Part Four

The first thing that penetrated the dark haze around his brain were voices that were fading in as if someone were turning up the volume on a radio. Malcolm lay very still and listened, until he could make out the words.

"How can I tell whether he's back to normal?"

"Essentially, you can't. But it will establish itself more sooner than later if he isn't."

An ironic chuckle. "It sure did last time."

A pause. "Don't worry, Commander. I am positive that Lieutenant Reed will be in his right state of mind when he wakes up."

Somehow, Malcolm had the feeling that his mind was having a little trouble processing information at the moment. He took in the words, but their meaning seeped through to him only partially. At the mention of his name, he came a little closer to the surface of awareness, and slowly opened his eyes, only to squeeze them shut again as bright lights blinded him. He licked his lips that were quite dry, and heard steps approaching. Carefully, he squinted and tried to make out who it was that had come up to the bio bed he was lying on. Slowly, Phlox' round face came into focus.

"Ah, Lieutenant," the doctor said, smiling. "Welcome back."

Malcolm opened his mouth to say something - he wasn't exactly clear on what he would say - but found that his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"Where's Trip?" He heard his own words, and found that they actually made sense. He'd realized that the voices he had heard before had belonged to Phlox and his partner, so Trip should be around somewhere.

Sure enough, a second later he heard Trip's voice speak up from somewhere behind Phlox.

"I'm right here, Mal." Trip appeared in Malcolm's field of vision, and he was smiling as well, even if the smile looked a little... off. Malcolm raised his hand - he didn't know exactly what he was planning to do, reaching for Trip's hand seemed like a possible option - but when he had moved it only a few inches, he was stopped by something that was tightened around his wrist and keeping him from moving his arm. Malcolm frowned, and as he looked down he saw that both his wrists were circled by Phlox' patient cuffs. Despite the wooziness that was still filling his head, Malcolm felt a surge of anxiety run through him. He tried to remember how he'd come to be cuffed to the bio bed, but his mind seemed rather blank in that respect. He remembered that he'd had the worst stomach ache he'd ever experienced, and that Phlox had diagnosed appendicitis and had wanted to operate on him. But as far as Malcolm knew, the doctor wasn't in the habit of cuffing his patients to the bio beds after surgery. He looked up at Trip and Phlox in bewilderment.

"What are those for?" he asked, and Trip and Phlox exchanged a look whose meaning Malcolm couldn't quite figure out. It seemed as if they were silently trying to agree on something. Then Trip turned back to him, and Malcolm felt his partner's hand settle on his arm.

"Mal, are ya sure you're feelin' alright again?" he asked. Malcolm frowned, considering the question.

"I'm fine," he said. When Trip's worried expression didn't relent, he added, "I'm feeling a little woozy."

"An after-effect of the sedatives," Phlox provided helpfully, but Trip paid him no attention and kept his eyes fixed on Malcolm.

"What about the Suliban?" he asked, confusing Malcolm even more.

"Suliban?" Malcolm asked. He couldn't imagine how Suliban would fit into the picture of him having his appendix taken out. Then a thought came to his mind, and he felt his chest tighten. "Did we have a run-in with the Suliban while I was-"

"No, not at all, Lieutenant," Phlox said, stepping forward and putting a hand on his shoulder. Malcolm gave him a distrustful look - he knew that it was not beyond Phlox to lie to him about the ship's status to keep him from "making a fuss", as the doctor would certainly call it. Phlox smiled at him. "Enterprise spent the time you were in sickbay cartographing an asteroid field. There were no incidents whatsoever."

"That's true," Trip added, smiling at him as well. "Ohnmar even went ahead wi' the phase pistol inventory, even though the Cap'n wanted to reschedule. Said she didn't want you ta think that yer crew can't do an inventory without havin' you to tell 'em what to do."

At that, Malcolm frowned. His second in command, Lieutenant Ohnmar Hsan, was a great security guard with considerable leadership skills, but when it came to the administrative part of the job, she could be somewhat... lax. He appreciated her enthusiasm, but would have preferred to oversee the inventory himself. Well, he would have to read the reports, then. He turned his eyes back to Trip. "Well, then... how do the Suliban come into this?" he asked. "And why am I cuffed to the bed?"

Again, Phlox and Trip exchanged a look, and Malcolm wished they would stop doing that. It was starting to annoy him a little.

Phlox had obviously come to a decision, because he smiled broadly at Trip, who had a doubtful expression on his face. To Malcolm's relief, the doctor then began to remove the restraints.

"I don't think we need those any longer, do we, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm didn't think Phlox expected an answer to that, so he kept silent, which the doctor didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He just bent over the bed and removed the right restraint as well.

"There you go," he said cheerfully, and Malcolm pulled his hands up to his chest, scratching the back of his left hand with his right one. He didn't want to leave his hands near the edge of the bio bed, in case Phlox for some reason decided that removing the cuffs had been a mistake, after all.

The doctor didn't seemed inclined to do so, though. Judging from his expression, Trip was the one who wasn't entirely convinced that Malcolm should be released. This observation both confused and worried Malcolm. Something must have happened while he had been out, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what that might have been. Before he could ask again, though, Phlox spoke up again.

"Well, gentlemen," he said, "I think I'll leave you alone, then. Mr. Reed, do you need anything?"

"No, I'm good," Malcolm said, and Phlox nodded.

"Well, then. Call me if you need me, alright? I'll be right next door."

Malcolm looked after the doctor for a moment, then turned his eyes back to Trip, who was standing a couple of feet away and smiling somewhat nervously. Malcolm gave him an inquiring look.

"Trip?" he asked. "Is everything alright with you?" He propped himself up on one elbow, and realized that he had obviously moved too fast when his vision blurred and his head began to spin. A second later he felt a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Whoa, Mal," he heard Trip's voice as he let himself be pushed back down on the bio bed. "Take it easy."

He blinked a few times, and the image before his eyes slowly came back into focus. Trip was looking down at him, and Malcolm felt a caressing hand brush his hair back. The lack of aggressive behavior on Malcolm's part had obviously convinced Trip that there was no danger in his partner, for the slightly wary expression he had worn before had been replaced by a worried frown. "Phlox really doped you up, huh," he said.

Judging from the sluggish reactions of his mind, Malcolm thought that Trip was probably right. He didn't think that he had felt as out of it as now when he'd woken up after the surgery on his leg. At least people had not been acting as weird as they were now. He cleared his throat. "Trip," he asked, "what happened while I was out?"

"Uh, well..." Trip took his hand. "You had a reaction to the anesthesia," he said. "You... well, you sorta freaked a little."

"I "freaked"?" Malcolm asked. Trip sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, well, Phlox said it happens from time to time. He said it's nothin' serious, he jus' didn't want ya ta move around too much. That's what the cuffs were for."

Trip reached out to pull up a chair, and Malcolm closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remember any of the "freaking" that Trip had mentioned. There was _something_, blurry and shapeless, at the very back of his mind, and Malcolm concentrated, trying to recall some rough details. He remembered a feeling of anxiety, bordering on panic, and a feeling of great danger... to Trip? to Enterprise? Both? He opened his eyes and looked at Trip, who was now sitting beside the bed and resting his elbows on its edge.

"Why did you mention the Suliban before?" he asked.

"Well," Trip said, reaching out and beginning to play with Malcolm's hair, caressing it. It was a pleasant feeling. "Ya know, you were convinced that the Suliban had taken over Enterprise." He smiled. "Were pretty persistent about it, too. Couldn't convince you otherwise."

Malcolm felt his ears grow hot, trying not to imagine himself ranting like a madman about a Suliban invasion that was only happening in his head. Suddenly, a thought came to his mind.

"What time is it?" he asked, and Trip glanced at the chronometer on the monitor above the bed.

"Seven o'clock in the mornin'."

Malcolm remembered that he'd come to sickbay around 2200 hours, so he had probably woken from the anesthesia in the dead of the night. He looked at Trip. "You were here all night?"

Trip pursed his lips. "No, not exactly," he said. "Phlox called me around half past two, when... well, ya know, an' after that I stayed. But I did catch some sleep, on one o' the bio beds."

"I'm sorry, Trip," Malcolm said, feeling rather guilty at the thought of Trip being woken up in the middle of the night and having to sleep on one of the narrow, uncomfortable bio beds. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Don' apologize," Trip said with a smile. "Wasn't your fault."

Malcolm answered the smile with one of his own, then closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Trip's fingers gently stroking his hair.

He must have dozed off for a while, for when he blinked his eyes open again, he found that Trip wasn't sitting beside the bed anymore, but standing a few feet away, talking to Phlox.

"... haven't experienced any lasting pain, Commander?"

"Nah," Trip answered, shaking his head. "It hurt like a bastard, but it's alright now. Told ya, doc, I'm okay."

Malcolm listened to the two of them with growing worry. It sounded as if Trip had been hurt in some way. He had seemed fine before, though...

"Just making sure, Commander," Phlox said. "Lieutenant Reed does have considerable strength. I want to avoid overlooking any serious injuries."

"Sure, doc. I'm fine, though. No need ta worry."

The conversation seemed over, and Phlox turned away and steered towards the counter on the other side of sickbay, while Trip turned back to Malcolm's bio bed.

"Trip?" Malcolm asked and sought out Trip's eyes as his partner raised his head. Phlox' last statement had triggered a feeling of dread in Malcolm. Something must have happened, he had done something to Trip, using "considerable strength". Trip gave him a smile and sat back down on the chair.

"Hey, Mal."

"Trip, did I hurt you?" Malcolm asked. Trip's change of expression from a friendly smile to surprise to a rather awkward half-grin did nothing to ease Malcolm's apprehension.

"Well," the engineer said, "no, not exactly. I mean, yes, but... well, not exactly hurt me... ya didn't mean to, so don't worry 'bout it."

Malcolm frowned, and despite Trip's protests propped himself on one elbow. "What happened, Trip?" he asked, trying to penetrate the haze that was surrounding the memories of last night. "What did I do?"

"Well..." Trip said, a rather embarrassed smile playing about his lips.

"What?" Malcolm heard the urgent tone in his voice, and silently cursed the fact that he simply couldn't _remember_. "What did I do?"

"Well, you... ya really wanted ta get outta sickbay," Trip said hesitantly. "And... well, ya know, ya thought Suliban were on Enterprise, and at some point you decided that Phlox an' I were Suliban, too."

Malcolm stared at his partner, the dread he was feeling intensifying. "What happened then?"

"Ah... well, ya tricked me into takin' off the restraints," Trip said, his cheeks reddening. "And..."

"And what?"

"Well, if ya really wanna know, ya squeezed mah balls," Trip said. Silence followed his words.

"I did what?" Malcolm asked when he was more or less sure that it wouldn't be only a horrified squeak that came out when he opened his mouth. Trip sighed.

"Ya squeezed my balls, an' then you ran off to chase your Suliban," he said. "The Cap'n an' T'Pol caught you jus' before ya could barricade yourself in yer quarters. T'Pol used the nerve pinch on you so they could getcha back to sickbay."

Usually, the thought of Captain Archer and T'Pol having to chase him like a runaway puppy while he was rampaging through the ship, on the hunt for non-existent Suliban, would have had Malcolm writhing in embarrassment, but at the moment Malcolm didn't give it any consideration at all. He stared at Trip, horrified.

"I'm so sorry, Trip," he said finally, reaching out to touch the other man's arm. "I... I'm really sorry, I... I didn't mean to hurt you-"

"O' course you didn't," Trip said with a smile and put his hand over Malcolm's. "Ya didn't know what you were doin'. An' besides, I'm alright. No damage done."

Malcolm gave him a doubtful look. "Still..." he said, not quite able to accept Trip's quick and complete forgiveness. He himself had once received a very rude kick into his private parts when his roommate at boarding school had decided that if it was him who was going to have to write the extra essay even though it was Malcolm who had initiated the practical joke, then Malcolm should have to suffer as well. Malcolm remembered the excruciating pain and the realization that he'd rather write a dozen extra essays than have his balls kicked again. The thought that he had done this to Trip somehow called for some kind of punishment, even if there had been extenuating circumstances.

Trip however just shook his head. "Don' worry 'bout it, darlin'. At least I got a story to tell."

The thought of Trip writing one of his many letters home and telling the Tucker Clan the entertaining story of how he had gotten his balls squeezed by his boyfriend almost made Malcolm cringe. His feelings must have displayed on his face, because Trip gave a laugh and took his hand. "Nah, don't worry, I won't tell anyone." He paused. "Gotta tell Silik, though, next time I see him. Bet he won't dare go near you after that."

At that, Malcolm had to laugh despite the guilty feeling that was sitting in his chest. The movement sent a twinge of pain through his stomach, and he winced, quickly stifling the laughter and lying back down on the bio bed.

Trip frowned. "You okay?" he asked. "Should I get Phlox ta give you somethin' for the pain?"

Malcolm shook his head. "No, I'm fine, thank you." He smiled. "Just don't make me laugh."

"Ah'm not supposed to make ya laugh?" Trip pursed his lips, making a show of looking thoughtful. "Yeah, well, I guess then Ah'm not gonna tell ya 'bout that one time when I pulled Lizzy up the old flagpole so she could keep a better lookout for Mom and Dad. Or that other time when I put a fake tarantula in mah mom's bed, an' she called me the Tuckers' worst addition to mankind since granduncle Winfred. Or that other time-"

"Stop it, Trip," Malcolm managed between gasps of suppressed laughter. "Stop it, that's evil."

Trip grinned broadly. "Sorry, darlin'. I'll stop."

Slowly, Malcolm managed to get his breathing under control again and cleared his throat, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around Trip's hand. "I guess I deserve it, though," he said with a rueful smile. Trip shook his head.

"Nah, you don't," he said, then considered. "Well, jus' a little, maybe."

Malcolm stifled another chuckle, then closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Trip's hand. All of a sudden he was feeling very tired again.

"Thanks for looking out for me," he said quietly, and felt Trip's fingers in his hair again. When his partner spoke, Malcolm could hear the smile in his voice.

"You're very welcome, darlin'."

To his own surprise, Malcolm felt wetness creep up behind his eyelids, and swallowed quickly. _Get a grip_, he told himself, and was glad for the tears of laughter that were still hanging in the corner of his eyes. Usually he was not a person to get sentimental. _Must be those sedatives Phlox mentioned before_.

He licked his lips and turned his head to one side, savoring Trip's closeness, and a few minutes later was fast asleep.

* * *

Epilogue soon to come up!

Please let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**AN**: Thanks to Exploded Pen, Joy and Triptacular (yep, _usually_ they are... -cough- ;) ) for reviewing. I really appreciate it very much!

So, well, now here goes the epilogue...

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Epilogue

Malcolm Reed was sitting on a chair next to a bio bed in sickbay, watching his sleeping partner, who was covered to the chin with a grey sickbay blanket and looking a little peaked around the nose. However, Phlox had said that everything had gone as planned, and that they only had to wait for Trip to sleep off the anesthesia.

Malcolm remembered the few terrible minutes between the moment when he'd received the call from sickbay - "There was an accident in Engineering, please come to sickbay asap, Lieutenant" - and the moment he'd arrived here, completely out of breath, to find that Trip had been injured, but not in a life-threatening way. An overloading relay had blown up, and a flying metal fragment had buried itself in Trip's thigh. Phlox had taken Trip to the OR immediately, and there had been no complications during surgery. The doctor had told Malcolm and the Captain that there would be no lasting damage whatsoever, and that Trip would be able to return to duty in about a week.

Relieved at the good news, Malcolm had decided to stay and wait for Trip to wake up, and so he was sitting here, watching Trip and gently caressing the soft skin on his partner's temple. He was getting a little drowsy - the sickbay smell seemed to do that to him every time he stayed here longer than a few minutes - and his thoughts were drifting.

When the monitor above Trip's head gave a soft bleeping, he started and got up quickly.

"Phlox?"

Sure enough, the doctor was there immediately, sticking his head through the curtains and throwing a glance at the monitor. "Everything's alright, Lieutenant," he said with a smile. "The Commander is waking up."

When Malcolm lowered his eyes and looked at Trip's face, he saw that his partner's eyelids were fluttering. He bent down and took Trip's hand.

"Hello there, love," he said, and Trip slowly dragged his eyes open, blinking a few times, then looking back at Malcolm with a rather confused expression in his eyes. Malcolm smiled. "Welcome back."

Trip didn't answer immediately, and when he spoke, his voice was rather hoarse. "Has Lizzy gone to bed yet?"

Malcolm was thrown off track for a moment, but tried not to let it show on his face. "Sure, love. Everything's fine. You're in sickbay."

"I've gotta bake her birthday cake now," Trip said, ignoring Malcolm's statement. Malcolm looked up at Phlox, frowning worriedly.

"Phlox?" he asked, and the doctor smiled broadly.

"Not to worry, Lieutenant. This is quite normal. The Commander will be back to his usual self in the morning."

There was a sparkle in the doctor's eyes, and Malcolm felt his ears redden, remembering the Suliban-appendix-incident of two months ago. Or rather, remembering the many tales about it. He himself still had no recollection of events.

"Ah, well," he said, turning back to Trip and lowering himself onto the chair. "I'll stay with him, then."

"As you wish, Lieutenant. If the Commander goes back to sleep later on, you are free to use one of the bio beds to - what is that human expression again - catch some shoot-eye."

"Shut-eye," Malcolm corrected him, glad that he had his back turned to the doctor. He did not want Phlox to see the smirk he hadn't be able to suppress at the doctor's words. "It's 'to catch some shut-eye'."

"Right," Phlox said cheerfully, undeterred by his mistake. "I'll be next door, if you need anything."

Malcolm nodded, and the sound of fabric moving against fabric told him that Phlox had left. He returned his attention to Trip, who was looking at him, the expression on his face probably best described with the words "far-out". Malcolm smiled at him and began to tousle the blond strands that were sticking up in all directions. Trip blinked a few times.

"Ah don't think we have any flour left," he said. "Did you remember to buy flour, Andy?"

"There's some in the basement," Malcolm said.

Trip frowned deeply. "We don't have a basement." He began to move his hands, and was obviously planning to sit up. "I'll go over to Nancy's, ask her for a coupla cups."

Malcolm caught Trip's hands in mid-movement and tightened his fingers around them. "Nancy's asleep already," he said. "Have you checked the pantry?"

"Nah, actually I haven't," Trip said, settling back down on the bed. "Good idea, though."

Malcolm smiled, and as he continued the conversation about Lizzy's birthday cake, he didn't let go of Trip's hands. His partner didn't seem to be inclined to use any force to be allowed to get up.

But better to be safe than sorry.

* * *

The End 

**AN**: Well, okay, so I'm gonna comment on it, after all ;). I spent the last year working in a hospital, and we had to take care of quite a few post-surgery patients. I admit that I have exaggerated the effects of Sudown Syndrome somewhat (but hey, what's fiction for, especially humor fiction), but I do have a few tales to tell from late shifts, including one about a Russian who suddenly decided that he wanted to go dancing and began to throw teapots at the staff when we told him he couldn't. The tale that found its way into this fic was no first-hand experience of mine (I guess I'm lacking the anatomic requirements, women can't get their balls squeezed, thank God ;) ), but it happened to one of the male nurses during night shift. I can tell you, after this incident that guy had the restraints at hand rather quickly when one of the patient was beginning to go bonkers ;).

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my fic... and as I said, feedback, chocolate, chocolate, feedback, and so on!


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